


The Morning After the Night Before

by LadyLondonderry



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Beach House, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Pining, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-11
Updated: 2017-03-11
Packaged: 2018-10-02 14:21:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10220183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyLondonderry/pseuds/LadyLondonderry
Summary: Harry and Louis have more or less grown up together, even now as adults it's tradition for their families to spend a few weeks in the summer at a beach house together.Problem One: Louis has been in love with Harry forever.Problem Two: It wont stop raining.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [afirethatcannotdie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/afirethatcannotdie/gifts).



> I'm late as always, but happy birthday Ellie!

The summer house was a tradition.

It started when Louis was little enough that the house felt like a castle. It started on a sunny day over tea with the new neighbours. It started as coincidence.

Louis’ mum had been outside lounging on the front stoop with a mug of tea, bare feet, and a large belly that she had told Louis was his sister-to-be as Louis played baker in the muddy puddles next to the petunias.

Just as Louis had put the finishing touches on his mud pie icing (flower petals that he would innocently claim “fell off” their stems), a minivan came rumbling up the lane, clearly stuffed to the brim inside, and pulled up with a terrible screech to the house next door.

It was the house that belonged to old Mrs. Potts who had recently decided to move in with her grandchildren in Ipswich (as she told Jay every morning when Jay was loading Louis into the car for his first year of primary). 

While still new to the complex art of reading, Louis had carefully sounded out the new word that had appeared pasted across the sign a few weeks ago - _SOLD_ \- and had been anxiously awaiting the promise of new neighbours – and maybe friends his own age! – ever since.

When the sound of the minivan’s engine quieted, Louis stared unabashedly as a man and woman got out of the front seats, and then slid open the back doors to reveal mountains of boxes.

Louis scrambled up, his bare feet squelching on the mud and stretched one arm above his head to flap it around wildly because there among the many boxes in that minivan were _possible friends!_ “Hello!” he called. “Hello, I’m Louis! Hello!”

A girl who looked maybe a bit taller than him who was unbuckling her seatbelt paused and looked over at him. She looked unimpressed. On the other side of her was a boy in a car seat who looked to have only just woken up, his eyes blinking owlishly and his thumb stuck resolutely in his mouth. Louis assumed he was younger and decided of the two he would probably be friends with the girl. Even though she was a girl.

Jay rose from where she had been sunning herself on the stoop to go introduce herself to the new neighbours, and the two kids who climbed out of the back – the girl on her own and the boy with the help of his mother first unbuckling the straps on his carseat – wandered out into the grass while casting interested glances all around.

The girl was clearly much more interested in exploring, and made her way through the gardens at the front of the house, but the boy wandered right up to Louis.

Louis wasn’t terribly impressed – this was a little kid after all, and Louis was almost _seven_ \- but still, it’d be rude not to introduce himself.

“I’m Louis,” he told the boy. “I’m almost _seven_.”

The boy gazed up at him peacefully for a moment and then took his thumb out of his mouth long enough to squeak, “Harry!” and wiggled his fingers before sticking his thumb back in his mouth.

"Do you want some?" Louis asked, holding out the mud pie to Harry.

Harry stared up at him with big green eyes before nodding, taking his thumb out of his mouth and leaning forward to take a _huge bite_ out of the mud barely staying packed together in Louis's hands.

Louis shrieked in disgust and let the mud fall from his fingers. "Mum!" he yelled. "Mum, he ate dirt!"

-

Harry had swallowed the bite of dirt without blinking, and his sister made retching sounds from behind the blueberry bush. "That's gross, Harry!" she had yelled.

Louis found he had respect for Harry. He was brave enough to eat a stranger's dirt pie, after all. That was very brave.

So after a number of adults had given lectures to both of them, Jay had invited the whole family inside for tea so that Harry could wash his mouth out (and his thumb, which he had stuck back in his mouth immediately afterward).

Over tea and biscuits and a round of introductions, the subject of summer came up, and Anne mentioned how with all the hassle of moving they hadn't gotten the chance to plan a trip, but that they were looking still to see if there were any last-minute places that they could find near the ocean to stay a week or two in.

It was perfect, really, that Jay had found herself unfortunately single only about a month after putting the deposit down for two weeks in a summer house by the beach. The opportunity to not give up the home entirely (and lose her deposit at that) was like an answered prayer for her.

-

Louis saw both Harry and Gemma around school, although neither ended up in his own class. Still, he saw Harry on the playground for combined break and felt he had some responsibility for making sure that Harry made friends.

What he got instead was a curly haired boy following him around for twenty minutes every day.

They left for the summer house the week after school ended, and that was the start of one of the best traditions of Louis’s life.

\---

The rain pelted down on Louis’s car as he weaved his way carefully around the twists and turns of the little dirt road that led up to the old summer house. Still standing strong at the edge of a cliff overlooking the beach, the house felt like a second home to him. Or maybe a third, since he was now a real adult with his own little flat. That would make his parents’ home a second home, and the summer house a third. Whatever.

He was driving up a day earlier than the others to meet Harry there, because the two sets of twins were still in school until the end of the day, and Gemma had phoned at the last minute to get Des’s help with an overflowing sink, so it ended up that Louis and Harry were driving up a bit earlier than everyone else to get the place opened up and aired out.

Aired out seemed like a strong term at this point, though. The rain was coming down so heavily that Louis was beginning to worry about the road becoming mud and a bit dangerous to drive on. Still, he was almost there; just the last bridge to drive over before he hit the brick lane that led up to the front.

When he got to the bridge he took it extra slowly, and was honestly beginning to get a little nervous. The rain wasn’t supposed to let up until well into the next day.

“Louis!” He heard Harry’s familiar timbre as he put on the brake and let the engine die down. There in the doorway was Harry’s looming form, holding the door open just enough to not let in too much of the storm. Harry’s beautiful looming form.

Okay, so it had been a long time since Louis and Harry were children. And Harry certainly wasn’t the same adorable little thumb-sucking child that he had been when they met, quiet and content to follow around in Louis’s footsteps. No, it was much worse. Harry had grown into one of the most attractive men Louis had ever laid eyes on, with curls cascading down the sides of his face because _for some reason_ working in a primary school meant you could grow your hair as long as you wanted and no one could bat an eye. He also stayed incredibly in shape, considering he spent all day pacing around a classroom making sure students didn’t stick paint in their ears (or noses), and Louis would be remiss if he failed to mention the tattoos.

Oh dear lord, the tattoos.

Harry had started getting them when Louis had gone off to university (although that was rather a misnomer, because Louis stayed in town and went local, still staying at his parents’ on the weekends and spending long hours at the Styles’ residence when Harry was free). They had started going to the tattoo parlour together when they found themselves with nothing better to do and time to kill, and while Louis did appreciate the ink he got on his own arms and chest, on Harry it looked… positively dazzling.

“Friendship tattoos”, Harry had called them. It had started out as a game, picking out pieces of artwork that hung on the walls and dividing the designs between them. Harry took a heart to Louis’s arrow; a ship decorated Harry’s arm while Louis got a compass; an anchor placed delicately on Harry’s wrist while Louis got a rope in the same placement.

“You’ll never be able to get a proper job now,” Harry would tell him with a grin as Louis would clean each of their tattoos in turn (because “I can’t do it, Lou, I’m sleepy”). To this day he’s still shocked he was able to nab the job at the station where being a radio DJ meant it didn’t matter what adorned his arms. His chest. His legs. 

The day he looked over everything that he had put on his own skin and realised that each and every piece had a bit of Harry in it was the day he realised that there was something more than “friendship tattoos” going on, and that squirming feeling in his stomach never quite went away after that.

-

“Mum texted,” Harry said as Louis towelled off. Even getting into the house with his bags was enough to soak him to the bone. “She said the weather’s only going to get worse.”

“Not surprised,” Louis mused. “It’s crazy out there. Felt like I could have gone right off the road if the wind picked up any more.”

He gave up trying to squeeze the water out of his shirt and opted instead for stripping it off. Hopefully the clothes in his bag had stayed dry.

“Louis!” Harry said, covering his eyes. “The indecency!”

“Oh shush,” Louis said. He felt his face heating up, like it always did when Harry joked about his body. Ridiculous. “I’ve seen you running around naked so many times. Waving your pants above your head and everything.”

“I was six!” Harry squeaked. He looked around before grabbing a pillow off the couch to throw at Louis. “That doesn’t count!”

“Pretty sure I’ve seen you naked since then, Love,” Louis mused. He knew he’d seen Harry naked. Each time had been all but seared into his memory. Harry had a _no clothes necessary around family_ policy that Gemma abhorred and had long ago declared that Louis was a member of the family too. 

Lucky him.

Louis more or less dumped his rucksack contents on the rug and rifled through them until he found a nice band tee to wear. Unearthing his phone in the process, he grabbed it and read through a myriad of missed texts.

“Lottie wants to know if I’m alive,” he said, skimming them. “Mum says one of the roads has flooded and there’s a downed tree that missed hitting the school but took out the swings.”

Harry did a low whistle. “Welcome to summer,” he said. 

Louis looked around the room. It looked pretty much the same as when they used to visit as kids, the only difference being the large screen telly and speaker system along one wall replacing the old tube telly that used to be there. The rain battering at the windows gave the place a bit of an ominous feel, especially with only one light on. 

“You unpacked yet?” he asked, going over to flip the overhead light. It illuminated the room a fair amount, but still wasn’t as cheery as he hoped.

“Nah, just got here,” Harry said, motioning to his own bags that lined the wall next to the staircase. “Besides, I can never remember how to work the speaker system, and it’s too quiet.”

Louis rolled his eyes. “Come on then,” he said and headed for the kitchen. There was a radio and CD player built into the wall of the kitchen that connected to the whole house, and for some reason Louis was the only one who had ever worked out how to properly turn it off and on. When he was younger this meant waking everyone to the bopping tunes of the Backstreet Boys whether they liked it or not. He took his phone and plugged it into the aux before turning the system on (which, admittedly, did take a few tries) and hitting play on his newest Spotify playlist.

“What’s this one called?” Harry asked as he took a glass out of the cabinet above the sink.

“You love the Chainsmokers Harry,” Louis said. “I know you’ve heard this song.”

“Not the song, what’s the playlist called?”

Internally, Louis groaned. Every season he made a new Spotify playlist, and was meticulous in curating the perfect playlist experience. That meant a good mix of genre, perfect song order, playlist title and cover art. Harry had long ago cottoned on to his playlist obsession and always asked when he saw him what the new one was. 

“ _St. Katharine in the Spring_ ,” Louis mumbled, hoping his voice would get lost in the crooning lyrics of _Paris_ playing overhead.

Harry turned with an unreadable expression. “You named your new playlist after my garden?” he asked.

Louis shrugged. “Gardens grow in the spring and all that shit. Seemed fitting.” It also seemed fitting since Harry sent him snaps on an almost daily basis to update him on how St. Katharine was doing. _St. Katharine’s violets have finally sprouted, Lou!_ and _Kathy’s lemon tree is flowering, look!_

Harry broke into a wide grin, which made Louis smile back. “You’re getting so many cucumbers this year.”

“I don’t want your cucumbers, Harry.”

“I don’t care. You named your playlist after my St. Katharine. She’s giving you cucumbers.”

-

They lost power around ten o’ clock.

Louis had been stretched out along the red settee, and Harry sprawled across the blue one, with the VHS of _Bambi_ playing in front of them. The large windows on either side of the telly showed that the rain clearly had no plans of letting up any time soon, and a flash of lightning that made Louis jump was followed by the lights of the room flashing before throwing everything into darkness.

“Shit,” Louis said.

“Fucking hell,” Harry said.

Louis reached for his phone and turned on the flashlight (35% battery, damn). He shone it at Harry, who shielded his eyes. “Sorry,” Louis said, turning it upward instead to illuminate the whole room with faint yellow light. “Guess we’ll never know if Bambi and Thumper fell in love, huh?” he said with as much seriousness as he could muster.

“Fuck off,” Harry said. “You can’t ever let anything go, can you?”

“Not when you say it with so much sincerity,” Louis cooed. “You were so upset the first time we watched this.”

Getting Harry riled up was one of the joys of hanging out with him, honestly. His face scrunched up and he’d get all indignant and, eventually, he’d look to Louis with those pleading eyes to make it all better, just the same way he used to when they were kids. It worked every time too, and Louis tended to get a cuddle out of it so he certainly wasn’t complaining.

“What do we do now?” Harry asked, brushing over the Bambi topic entirely. 

Louis shrugged. “I dunno. Go to bed?”

“Lou! It’s only, like, ten! Are you saying there’s literally nothing to do because the power’s off? Are we that reliant on technology?”

“Yes.” Louis said with a serious face. 

Harry pouted. “Fine,” he said. But only because it’s raining so I can’t make you go stargazing with me.”

Fuck, stargazing with Harry was horrible. It was one of Harry’s favourite things, so he used to make Louis do it with him all the time. It normally meant driving to a secluded area, putting a blanket out and laying down in the middle of nowhere just to stare at the sky and talk about deep shit. That was when secrets came out, just because it felt like there was no reason to hold them in anymore. If he laid there long enough, Louis would start having to bite his tongue, rather than tell Harry exactly what he thought about those adorable little curls, those plush lips, that deep voice, and those large, bony hands Louis was sure could easily cup the back of his neck and still his whole being in a moment.

Not to mention there was no way Louis could ever tell him the way Harry’s braying laugh that happened at the most inappropriate of times had Louis so full up with butterflies and sunshine that he wanted to never leave Harry’s side, never chance missing it happening again.

Stargazing sucked.

Neither of them had actually brought their bags up to their rooms, having got sidetracked by diving into the VHS collection that for some reason grew larger every time they got there, even though Louis was pretty sure the last VHS sold on shops was at least ten years earlier. So, weighted down with bags and with the lights of both their phones to guide them, Louis followed Harry up the stairs to the second floor, where the bulk of the bedrooms were. 

There were two rooms downstairs with queen sized beds, each traditionally taken by the parents of both families. Of the three rooms upstairs, there were two for the girls and one that was always split by Harry and Louis. It had bunkbeds with a twin mattress on top and a full on the bottom – Louis had claimed the bottom bunk years ago because _“I’m older Harold so I need more space.”_

“You know,” Louis said. “Since it’s only us tonight we should take advantage. I’m gonna go sleep in one of the queen beds.” He dumped his bags on the bottom bunk in their room and rifled through for his pyjama bottoms. 

“What?” Harry frowned. “But it’s dark!”

“Yes,” Louis deadpanned. “That happens at night.”

Louis got a pillow thrown at him again. “You know what I mean!” Harry said petulantly.

“I certainly do, Curly,” Louis said. “But I also know that this is my one chance to sleep in the room with the ensuite that has a tub with jets _and_ a two-faucet shower.”

Harry pouted. “Fine,” he said. “But I’m taking the room with the walk-in closet.”

Louis tried so hard to suppress a grin, he really did. He saw the second Harry realised what he was about to say.

“Harry, you walked out of that a long time ago.”

The last pillow from the bed was thrown at his face.

-

Louis loved sharing a room with Harry, he really did. He found the boy’s small, snuffling snores sort of calming, and waking up in the morning to Harry standing doing his hair in front of the mirror in only his pants was a gift from the lord above, really.

But the awkward boners he could do without, and one night of getting to avoid having to hide how turned on he got from Harry’s exhibitionism was a nice change.

After taking an _incredibly nice_ and _incredibly long_ shower in the dark, Louis climbed into bed and checked that the power still wasn’t working by flipping the light switch. Nothing. His phone read 17% battery because it was a little bitch, so he turned off all but the most essential functions to try to get it through the night.

Laying there in the dark room listening to the storm rage on outside, he had to suppress a few thoughts about how high the waves from the ocean could get, and how long it would take before water could reach the front door. 

That’s what happened when he was left on his own with no buzzfeed articles to go through, or memes to look at. Damn it, why didn’t sleep come faster?

In the roll of thunder, he almost missed the creak of the door to the room opening.

“Lou?” asked Harry’s deep voice, a whisper in the darkness.

“Yeah, Haz?” Louis asked, rolling over and spying his form in the darkness.

“The other room is really big and the thunder keeps getting louder. Do you mind if I…” he trailed off and Louis felt a pang in his chest. His boy was scared of the dark.

Not his boy.

“Yeah, of course,” Louis said with a yawn that sounded as fake as it felt. “Come on, I’ll budge up.”

So his attempt to wake up without an awkward boner had gone drastically wrong and here he was, holding the covers up for Harry to share the bed with him. This was… unfortunate.

“Thanks,” Harry said, still attempting a whisper although his voice really was much too deep for it. He slid in awkwardly beside Louis and flopped face-down on the pillow. Unlike Louis, who felt more awake than ever now, Harry seemed to succumb to sleep incredibly fast, his breathing evening out within minutes.

Every time the lightning flashed, Harry’s curls were momentarily illuminated, and every time the thunder rolled, his eyebrows would furrow for only a moment before his face relaxed again. It felt like it took hours before Louis began to feel sleepy, and a lot of that time was spent telling himself that it was a bad idea to brush those curls out of Harry’s face, and that laying an arm over Harry’s chest only to pretend like he did it in his sleep the next morning wasn’t going to do anything good for his own mental state.

Still, Harry’s soft little snores started up before too long, and with that soothing noise and the scent of Harry surrounding him, Louis found himself finally relaxing enough to slip into sleep.

-

The morning came all too abruptly for Louis.

Except, he wasn’t actually sure if it was morning or not. Opening his eyes, he found the windows still dark and rainy, but that didn’t with the time at all. He went to grab his phone off the side table only to find both arms pinned down by a weight on top of him. A heavy, warm weight that was also breathing in his ear.

Right. Harry.

Louis gently turned his face toward Harry’s, trying not to wake him. At some point Harry had moved into his personal space, an arm draped over him and a foot worming its way partially under his ankle. Well, at least it wasn’t Louis’s fault.

Letting his vision adjust to the darkness, Louis had the realisation that Harry was very much not asleep. He was clearly trying hard to keep his breathing even, but his face was scrunched, and Harry in deep sleep meant snores relaxation, not whatever he was trying to do over here.

“Hazza,” Louis said softly. Harry didn’t reply. “Haz, I know you’re awake.”

Harry didn’t open his eyes. “Sorry,” he said, and suddenly Louis was cold because all at once Harry wasn’t draped over him any longer. 

“It’s not a problem,” Louis said, glad that it was dark enough that Harry couldn’t see the blush spreading across his face. He reached for his phone and was temporarily blinded by the screen. 5% battery. 4am. “Damn.” 

Louis pushed the phone back up to the headboard and turned his body toward Harry. “Seriously Haz, you’ve definitely spooned me at some point in our relationship, I can’t say this is new territory for us.”

Harry didn’t say anything, just shifted a bit so that their ankles were locked together. The touch felt like an electric current running from Harry to Louis, and Louis held himself as still as possible because he knew he was otherwise going to start twitching from the contact.

Sleep came eventually, once the buzzing in his veins stilled.

-

The next time Louis woke, the rain had quieted to a simple pitter patter, and there was something that could almost be considered light outside the windows.

Louis stirred sleepily, brain cloudy, and found once again there was a body draped over his own. Briefly, Louis let himself imagine what it would be like to wake up like this for the rest of his life. 

The more he woke up though, the more he realised that his body was betraying him, as it often did, and Harry’s leg was pressed right up against his crotch where the problem lay.

_Fuck._

He lay there willing it to go down (it didn’t), and willing Harry to stay asleep (he didn’t).

Harry let out a little whine and Louis turned to see him trying to bury his head under his pillow, to no avail. He let out a laugh that he didn’t think fast enough to stifle, and watched Harry rise to alertness.

Just like last time, the second Harry seemed to become aware of their positions he rushed to make sure that no part of him was touching Louis, although not as smoothly this time.

"Fuck," Harry cursed. "Sorry, I'm so sorry."  
   
"It's really not a big deal," Louis reasoned, still confused as to why cuddling had become such a hot problem for Harry when it never had been before. Was it the fact that it was with Louis, specifically? Was he the problem?  
   
"I just- um. I have to go," Harry stuttered, moving backwards toward the edge of the bed.  
   
Louis' insides churned. He felt like his heart was being squeezed. Something inside him told him that letting Harry stumble out that door right now like it looked like he was intent on doing was going to burn a bridge he wanted to protect with everything he had.  
   
"No, Haz-" Louis scooted himself over toward Harry and reached out and grasped his wrist as Harry went to stand. Catching him off guard, Louis accidentally pulled harder than he needed to and brought Harry tumbling back onto him. In a flurry of limbs and blankets, their heads knocked together as Harry landed squarely on top of him.  
   
"Fucking hell," Harry groaned, both hands going up to his forehead.  
   
"Sorry, sorry," Louis cooed. His own forehead ached but Harry was of more concern right then. "Are you okay, do you need ice?"  
   
"No, I'm, I need to-" Harry started shifting around, shimmying off of Louis until he froze, one thigh between Louis's legs.  
   
_Fuck,_ Louis thought. _Fuck, fuck, fuck,_ because of course even with trying to figure out why Harry was being weird as hell, Louis's anatomy was still betraying him and Harry could definitely feel it.  
   
"Please pretend this never happened,” Harry squeaked out, resolutely not looking Louis in the face.

“Um,” Louis quivered, mind rushing to catch up with the situation. Harry wanted to ignore the fact that Louis had a boner? Was he trying to let him down gently? “Are you- what are we talking about? Just- to clarify. Are we pretending that I never had a boner?”

“That _you_ -“ Harry’s eyes snapped to Louis’. “Why?” he asked, looking suspicious.

Louis looked incredulously back at him. “Because – you?” he asked uncertainly, words failing him.

“Me,” Harry says flatly back, eyebrows knitted together. 

“Yeah?” Louis squeaks. “I’m- um. I really like you?” he takes a deep breath. “Maybe- I have for a while?”

Harry stared at him, unblinkingly. He was still splayed out half on top of Louis, but Louis wasn’t going to mention that now. The silence went on for long enough that Louis’ ears started heating up, he knew his face was turning red. He had started planning his escape route and hideout space for the next year or so by the time Harry spoke up again.

“Really?” Harry asked, and Louis wasn’t sure if he imagined the hopeful tone he heard.

“Yeah,” Louis said. “A really fucking long time, actually.”

The next thing he knew was a heavy weight draped over his entire body, and soft lips against his. Louis let out a surprised noise that turned abruptly into a moan when Harry’s hands found their way to his hair.

“Fuck,” Harry said when he pulled back. “You’re telling me it’s been mutual all this time and you never thought to tell me?”

“How should I have known it was mutual?” Louis asked, trying to look serious for a moment, although the smile wouldn’t leave his face.

“I took you stargazing, like, _weekly,_ Lou. That’s a sign.” Harry said, pouting.

“Oh just kiss me again, Haz. I’ve been waiting years for this.”

-

The rain didn’t let up until early afternoon, and Harry and Louis ended up with the house for themselves for another two days until the roads were cleared enough to be safe to drive on again. They used the time well. 

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on Tumblr at [LondonFoginaCup](londonfoginacup.tumblr.com)
> 
> If you feel so inclined, reblog the post for this fic [here](http://londonfoginacup.tumblr.com/post/158258642724/the-morning-after-the-night-before)!


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